Throwing Caution to the Colorful | Alex Turner

a sadistic need for social interaction

october, 2005 (london) 

(five months later)

"We're going out."

I looked down, hands on my hips, at my roommate Camille, who was face-down on the couch, a barely distinguishable lump of blankets.

She gave a noncommittal grunt.

"Come on," I said, pulling on her exposed arm. "We need to get you out of the apartment."

Another grunt.

"Camille, look at me."

No movement.

"Camille."

With loud groaning, she slowly turned herself over so that she was facing me, disheveled head sticking out of her blanket fortress.

"Jude, just let me stay here for a-" She paused to yawn. "little while longer. Maybe forever."

She closed her eyes and began to turn back over.

"Camille, come on -"

"I know it's hard for you to empathize," her voice was slightly muffled by the couch cushions, "Since you go through romantic partners like we go through coffee filters, but I am distraught, Jude. I plan to become a permanent living room fixture."

I rolled my eyes and pulled off a blanket. "Camille, I am not letting you become one with the couch." I pulled off another blanket. "You need to get back-" Another blanket. "-into the human world." Another blanket.

"But it's cold and mean and the couch is so warm and nice-"

I pulled off another blanket.

"-and if you keep pulling off these blankets I will fight you."

"Good." I reached for the final blanket. "It would get you off of the couch."

Camille smacked away my arm, finally sitting up, albeit slowly. "Fine, fine, fine." She rubbed her eyes. "I'll help you satisfy your sadistic need for social interaction."

I grinned. "Is it sadistic to want to help a friend after a breakup?"

"It is when you do it like this."

"You don't even want to hear what I have planned?"

She leaned back into the couch. "I mean, at this point, I don't think I can stop you." The hint of a smile was beginning to show on her face.

"Oh, don't worry, you'll love this."

Camille crossed her arms, still smiling.

"Okay, so I know that Anne the asshole dumped you right after you bought joint concert tickets for one of your rock bands, and I know you weren't planning on going, but-"

"Jude, you really don't have to-"

I shushed her. "We're going. Tonight."

Camille laughed. "How many times have you said that you'd rather pull out your own eardrums than listen to my music?"

"Which is exactly why you should appreciate this gesture of selfless friendship. I am laying down MY ears for your-"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it."

"Am I not the best friend on the planet?"

Camille threw a pillow at my head. "Fine, I'll go get ready."

"That's what I like to hear."

While she was in the shower, I sat on the kitchen counter, eating an apple and skimming through a magazine.

"Hey, Jude!" Camille shouted from down the hall. "What time does it start, again?"

I glanced at the tickets, pinned to the fridge by magnets.

Arctic Monkeys. London Astoria. 8:00

"In an hour!" I shouted back, in between bites.